


The Meaning of Happiness

by orphan_account



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: As you do, Gen, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Gets To Pet A Cat, and then he steals the cat and has to escape the city
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-14
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:54:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28058769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: The fur was soft. Geralt thought that the cat felt like what a small child might imagine what one of those small, fluffy clouds that float across the sky on a nice day would feel like. He didn’t know if all cats were that wonderfully soft or if that cat in particular had exceptionally soft fur like a rabbit. A part of him desperately wanted it to be just that cat. The cat was so special that it deserved to have the best and softest fur a cat could have.Geralt finally gets to pet a cat.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 49





	The Meaning of Happiness

The cat was different. It didn’t hiss or yowl or flee when Geralt entered the room like other cats invariably did. Instead, it quietly observed him for a short while before turning its attention to grooming itself. It was content in a way cats never were in his presence.

Geralt inched closer to the table the cat was perched upon and breathed as lightly as he could in case his normal breathing was enough to shatter the bubble of calm surrounding the cat. He froze for a second when the cat looked up at him, but he continued forward when the cat started licking the fishy residue of a past meal off of the table.

He slowly extended his arm to the cat and let his hand hover near its face like he’d seen people greet cats in the past. Time stretched out into an eternity in the second he waited to see what the cat would do. His heart pounded more than he ever thought it would if a situation like the one he was in ever happened and he couldn’t bring himself to pull in breath while the cat decided what to do with his hand.

It raised its head and delicately sniffed at his fingers. Then, clearly pleased with Geralt’s humble offering of his own limb, it rubbed its cheek against his glove and started vibrating. The vibrations could only be faintly felt through the leather, but the rumbling sound the cat was making more than made up for that.

As he stared down at the miracle playing out before him, his mind wandered. Did Roach throw him on his way to the city? Did something swoop down from the sky and attack him before he could notice that it was there? Was this a coma dream or the hallucinations of a dying man? He didn’t know. This seemed more like something out of a fever dream than something that would ever happen to him in real life. It wasn’t even something Geralt thought he would enjoy if he was ever given the chance, but not only did he enjoy it, he _loved_ it.

His hands shook more than he could remember them ever shaking in the past as he lifted his free hand up and bite the glove off. He gently reached out and touched the top of the cat’s head with his bare hand and stroked it as lightly as possible.

The fur was soft. Geralt thought that the cat felt like what a small child might imagine what one of those small, fluffy clouds that float across the sky on a nice day would feel like. He didn’t know if all cats were that wonderfully soft or if that cat in particular had exceptionally soft fur like a rabbit. A part of him desperately wanted it to be just that cat. The cat was so _special_ that it deserved to have the best and softest fur a cat could have.

The vibrations intensified as he continued to pet it. Were cats supposed to vibrate when they were petted? Geralt wanted to think so. He liked the vibrations. _Purring_. That’s what the vibrations were called. He liked the _purring_. He wanted to hear a cat purr again in the future.

The perfect moment he was in came crashing down around him and his blood turned to ice in his veins. He _wouldn’t_ hear a cat purr because it was enjoying his presence and his touch again. The cat was an exception and he would never run into another cat that liked him ever again. This was the last time a cat would willingly let him pet it.

He would have to leave this cat and go back into a world where the people and the cats hated him. He would have to watch every cat he came across hate him and hiss at him and claw at him. He would have to see that and to live with the knowledge that for one glorious morning a cat liked him and he would _never experience that again_ and—

The next thing Geralt was aware of was the brightness of the outside world, the scent of the harbor, the shouting of the guards, and the purring ball of love he held in his arms.

His head snapped to the left at the sound of quick but heavy footsteps and clanking plate. A small patrol of guards ran at him, yelling at him to put the cat down and calling him a thief.

For a second, Geralt hesitated. He could put the cat down and try to talk his way out of it. Stealing a cat was almost definitely a mistake but when he glanced down at the cat that was perfectly happy for him to hold, he knew that it was a mistake that he was more than willing to make.

He ran. He ran as quickly as he could along the dirt path along the river shore. The patrol chasing him fell farther and father behind but that was a small comfort when he knew he needed to think of a way to get off the small island that wouldn’t end with him getting caught by more guards.

He could find somewhere to hide until nightfall and try to sneak out in the cover of darkness. He could make a disguise and leave that way. Alternatively, he could hire someone to hide him in a cart and take him out of the city that way.

His plans to sneak out of the city came to a screeching halt when a patrol of guards heading in the opposite direction saw him sprinting towards them and away from the other patrol while holding his new cat. The other patrol shouted at him to halt and ran to intercept him.

Geralt looked around frantically for an escape. On one side of him there was a wall blocking him fleeing the guards in that direction and on the other was the river. The guards wouldn’t want to chase him into the water when they were weighed down with plate armor. The only thing he would need to worry about was keeping the cat’s head above the waves.

He lifted the cat over his head and sprinted into the safety of the river.

The guards behind him screamed at him and let him know that he was no longer welcome in Oxenfurt and that they would arrest him if he ever set foot in their city again. Which wasn’t great, but his strange and wonderful cat was more than worth it.

It was only when he was halfway across the river when he remembered that he rode into the city and that Roach was still there.

He swore under his breath and paddled off in search of someone he could hire to fetch his horse for him.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this but I'm not sure if its because I'm a beginner writer and don't have the skill to convey what I want or if it's because I don't actually think Geralt is the kind of person who would impulsively steal a cat or some combination of the two.


End file.
